Father, I love you, as the orange of the sunset fades to the ship’s berth, to the fields of a cherry birdsong so darken like a lute, your song purifies my broken soul father, you are everything, my world, myself, I love you.
two mouths crawling the Medusa legs us pale girls virulence being told is our blood and bones.
pilling, with my favorite lady an eos tread
I see you I hoard your threaded- mulling-overs; playing me into junction, screaming, sighing screaming, sighing
you wound me A lotus dress with lace of red.
psyche-reaped and kissed into a lushed womb where coiling into my lap, she lay
variegated in singes; touches of her neck and wrist, contused in no promises, only the sprawl of remembrance gets darker
In the present moment, she awaited the inevitable. She strayed from Oktavia even more so—to the point the human noticed her odd looks and disappointment; their hands had bumped into each other when trying to reach for the artificial sweetener jar—and Mischa flinched like a fish waiting to be gutted by their captor. In retrospect, however--
My hero turned out to be a monster, it sinks further in my chest; frail leaves and empty words spill—spill
"...I am not even flattering you, she probably just glanced at you and decided what she would feel, like clockwork,” he snapped his fingers. “You need to end this.” "And how do you expect me to do that?” Mischa didn’t dare break away eye contact. Respect was the only thing she had left, if it wasn’t love. "You do it carefully, Koch. Very carefully.”
like abandoned memories, recalled by my mother like when my grandfather said “I’m going to kill you” while counting money
with no thread of flowers to plant your feet on, and into morning air at a hotel room remembering that’s what home felt like.
I found a dead deer in the road at the same time my dad told me not to look;
Through the smokestacks there is the death of me as I pass the hills.
Glassy eyes in sumac touches she waits for me or doesn’t
I have recently composed an intro soundtrack to the Identify podcast project I’ve been working on. For those that do not know, Identify is an ongoing novel collaboration project that delves into a mysterious island that has different uses for people.
i only have sensibilities in sempiternal madness
I’m very happy to say that my poem, “Hid too well” has been published in Edge of Humanity.
I had the same hope Sylvia Plath did, at one point, in her journal—she didn’t want to die.
my heart in the oubliette